Page 49 of The Girl Out of Time
“You mean you took us from … out of …”
“Our time, yes.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’ll get us back, I promise!”
“Back—” he pulledher out of the way of a swirling couple. “What do you mean, back?”
“Lovebirds, you’re not doing a very good job of masquerading,” a lady with a tall powdered wig housing an entire ship replica tutted as she walked by.
“Okay, listen.” Emmeline headed to the side of the room. She took two decorative ribbons off the mirrors and used a knife from the cutlery table to cut inch-long streaks into them. “I think it happens when my emotions run high, and given I was about to die, I’d say they were pretty high. This shimmering in the air appears—”
“I saw it.”
“And if you go through it, you end up somewhere else. Like it happened with us.” She wrapped the white ribbon as a makeshift mask around her eyes and handed him the red one.
“You’re saying you’ve done this before?”
She shrugged. “Once or twice.”
This was insane. Absolutely, positively insane.
As insane as the fact that they were both still alive. And yet, that was also true.
“I know it’s bizarre, but you have to believe me.” She gestured at their surroundings. “Doesn’t this look like the ballroom we’d just explored?”
Now that he compared it—yes, it did. But in a much better time. An earlier time, before the fire?
He couldn’t believe he was considering this. “If we are somewhere else, how do we get back?”
“I’m not sure.” She smiled nervously. “My best bet is I need to have another emotional surge.”
“So we need to go throw ourselves out of the window?”
“Any emotion would do, I think. Hopefully, a happier one.” She glanced around. “Do you like dancing?”
“I … know how to.” That was the most he could say about it; like so many of his other skills, it wasn’t one frequently employed on the farm. He’d found it fun to learn, though. Matching the figures to the rhythm of the music was a bit like a filling in a math equation.
“I love to dance.”
He tied his ribbon mask behind his head. “Well, then, Miss Grey, may I ask for a dance?” He offered her a hand.
“You may.” With a mischievous grin, she took it, and he led her to the dance floor.
They joined three other couples, positioning to start the dance by standing side by side. The musicians struck a lively tune—a quadrille, he judged. But as the couples started the dance, turning toward each other, then weaving their arms behind their backs, Theo realized, in a burst of panic—he didn’t know this figure.
“What are we dancing?” Emmeline flashed him a similarly panicked look.
“It’s a—”Damn. It was a cotillion—out of fashion by the time Wescott figured Theo should get his dancing lessons. It being similar enough didn’t help when the figures were different.
“Improvise,” Emmeline whispered.
Right. If the equation wasn’t complete, he only needed to find the missing variable by taking the rest into account. He took her hand with a renewed conviction and spun her around.
It was rather chaotic at first. Emmeline stepped on his foot, and, trying to sync up with the rest, they bumped into another pair. But as if prolonged contact made their thoughts and moves align, Emmeline soon molded intohis arms, perfectly reacting to every step, every lead—even spinning away from him and back when he prompted her with the slightest nudge.
“Hold on,” the gentlemen next to them said. “What was that?”
They stopped on the spot, still holding hands, undoubtedly looking like two naughty children about to be punished.
“Do it again,” the man requested.
